


Cliché Amnesia Story

by Ghost_Assist (orphan_account)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, Amnesia, Angst, Cliche, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-11
Updated: 2016-07-07
Packaged: 2018-01-24 08:41:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1598642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Ghost_Assist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: "Amnesia doesn’t happen in real life, John. It’s not the 90’s anymore."</p><p>"I’m not making this up. I’ve told you for like, I don’t know, the past hour that I don’t know who you are! How hard is that to grasp?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. John: Don't Remember Anything

**Author's Note:**

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>  **12.07.15 Edit:**
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> _((To new readers this might be a spoiler alert. Idk.))_
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> Hey so I kind of feel like I needed to add this in for some reason. This story has been going on for at least a year and a half now. The tone and writing style of both chapters 1 and 2 are notably very different from the rest of the fic. At the time the story was more of a parody of the ever so popular amnesia trope in western media. (Hence the title of this fanfiction.) I kind of felt that there was a good amount of angst in beginning but overall the chapters were strongly humor-based. The rest of the chapters do have a whimsical aspect to them (c'mon it's homestuck) but the tone is more... serious. I guess haha. I also feel that the writing has improved since the start of this all, and the first two chapters just can't match up to the other chapters. I'm not going to edit the beginning part of this story since they are somewhat essential. I'm just writing this as a warning to current and future readers.
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> **Anway TLDR: This fic is a year old and the first two chapters suck. It gets better around chapter 3.**  
> 

 

"Amnesia doesn’t happen in real life, John. It’s not the 90’s anymore," he’s pacing back and forth in front of your bed.

You’ve long given up on trying to convince this dude that really, you have no idea who the heck he is. Nonetheless, you try again.

"I’m not making this up. I’ve told you for like, I don’t know, the past hour that I don’t know who you are! How hard is that to grasp?" You suck in a deep breath. This isn’t good for your health. This dude is certainly going to give you a migraine if he’s going to keep this up. "I know that you told me that I just tripped on the side of the road and hit my head or something, but that doesn’t rule out that possibly I’m not messing with you, and I really have amnesia."

"Fine," he says. You straighten up in your bed, and lean towards his direction. Have your ears deceived you?

"What, you’ve finally come to your senses? You don’t think I’m trying to trick you anymore?" This is too good to be true.

He replies, “Nope, I’m just playing along until you get rid of your asinine behavior and apologize to me, asshole. Anyway if you want to play this game, I should start the trip down memory lane by telling you about the childhood we share.” You grate your teeth. What is this guy’s problem? If he’s really your "best bro in the whole god damn universe" he certainly doesn’t act that way.

His stupid mouth is still moving, and you try to zone him out.”You began worshipping me as your hero and idol at the tender age of twelve. You were a pathetic child, but I still took you in to learn the art of kung-fu.”

"Even I know that’s total B.S. dude," you mutter. "Aren’t you suppose to be helping me? You’re suppose to jog my memory or whatever. Give me a real sentimental moment that I could remember or something," you begin to complain. You don’t know what compels you to continue to talk to this douche, but you fucking do it anyway.

"You know, if your dad was here, he’d be finding this whole act absolutely hilarious. But I don’t." Now he’s glaring at you. Great, you’ve made him upset, that makes two of us here buddy. "Look, I know you want to fill your prankster gambit, or whatever, but I’m serious here," he’s walking towards you. Oh boy. His shades make him look a bit intimidating, but you’re pretty sure he wouldn’t hit you or anything.

You’re in a hospital, hitting is illegal. Oh god, his hands are coming towards you. Your immediate reaction is to flinch, but you don’t feel a thing. You open an eye to check, and see his hand hovering over you. He’s leaning on your bed, but he’s done that often enough for you to not feel uncomfortable. However, this is the first time his face has been so close to yours. You’ve been awake for three hours and you’ve just begun to feel woozy.

Oh god when is your dad suppose to be coming over from…Wherever he is suppose to be coming from.

You feel the other guy breathing on your neck, and a rush of thought comes over you. Half of those thoughts are telling you to push him as hard as your drugged up body can, a quarter of those thoughts are telling you to reach to the phone on your right and call for help, and a really, really small part of you is telling you to reach for his shades, tear them off, then kiss him.

You decide to look at him with a stupid expression adorn on your face and hope to god he kisses you first. But he doesn’t.

He’s just leaning into you, staring at you, (eye to eye you assume), expecting you to react somehow.

Finally he whispers, “John, you really can’t remember me.” You catch that he states this, and not asks this. All you could do is stare back at him blankly. You nod. Then, he drops on the floor and sits with his back to the bed.

You sigh. “You said we were friends.”

He nods slowly. “Are,” he mumbles. “We are friends, John. You went to public school; you should know your tenses.”

"Sorry," you reply cautiously. "Like I said, we are friends, and um, the me." Jeez this is awkward. You are currently addressing your best friend/stranger/dude that’s pretty smoking hot/etc in a delicate manner. If you say one wrong word in this situation, you feel that he’s going to blow a fuse or something. Maybe if you piss him off, he might punch the amnesia out of you.

"Non-amnesia John," you say with caution. You stare at the back of his head while he idly plays with the corner of the bed sheet."I’m certain that he would never want to hurt you in anyway -"

"You’re wrong," he interrupts. You see him reach for the aviators on his face. He pulls them down, and slams it on your bedside. "He would be a total dick to me right now, and you—" you take a breath as he leans towards you. He’s tearing up, and his eyes, ruby eyes, presents a look of… mourning.

"You don’t know this, but ever since you woke up, you’ve been acting so differently." You attempt to speak up, but for once, you have nothing to say. You lean back in your bed. "I don’t know. When you woke up, you were suppose to smile or something, say something dumb, like ‘whoops I fell’ or something as equally stupid. But ever since you’ve opened you’re stupid blue eyes, you’ve been frowning, and all this time I thought you were just messing with me, but something’s not right with this picture. You flinched when I tried messing your hair like I usually do, and your hair is always stupid by the way and you didn’t make a stupid comment about your dad’s cakes when he called you, you didn’t ask me about our homework like you would totally do. One time you broke your ankle and some shit, but you were a fucking wreck because you were worried about your stupid gym grade and just yesterday I finally, I mean we finally—"

There’s a knock on the door. He wipes his face with his hand. He grabs his shades from the bed and storms out of the room. As he walks by, you could see a man dressed in a suit. The man calls to him “Dave, Dave, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

You close your eyes. A sigh escapes you, and you feel a bit of regret for acting the way you were towards Dave. Of course he’s realized that you didn’t have your memory.

Dave. You hate how you had to learn his name. You hate how you didn’t know it when you opened your eyes. You hate that you remember the smirk he threw at you when you woke up, and how quickly it fell the moment you spoke.

You want to remember.

 


	2. Dave: Initiate Awkward Car Ride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Egbert Bro can't pick me up could you give me a ride..........................................

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry. I got a playstation and i forgot everything else was a thing

Something you should have considered in your situation before having a meltdown in front of your amnesiac best friend and downright telling him that you can't deal with the fact that he doesn't know who you are is that the only person who could give you a ride back home is said best friend's father. 

And said best friend is clear of any life-threatening conditions, so it's perfectly alright for him to go back home. In the same car. Because the man that is driving is his father, and that's a thing that happens in life. Fathers will drive their memory-lapsing sons home, and sometimes the awkward best friend tags along.-

If nightmares happened in real life this would be it.

Tragedy strikes and for some reason, John decides to get in the back with you. You haven't been in the same breathing space since you yelled (cried) about an hour ago. You shift awkwardly in your seat, and try not to look in his direction. You want to say sorry to him, because you did a dick move and thought about yourself before thinking about how amnesia would affect him.

Seriously Dave? John's memory will be gone for who knows how long, he might or might not recover it any time soon, and you were trying to make the issue here about you? You make yourself sick.

You pray that John kept his pesterchum logged in.

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 21:40 --  
TG: john its me dave  
TG: i know im sitting right next to you right now but you have to hear me out

John jumps in surprise. You try to hide your smile by facing the other direction. You see John's reflection in the window. He takes out the phone from his pocket and looks at it with a grimace. Honestly, it's like he's never seen a phone before. You don't know how all this memory stuff works, but you are pretty sure that he could remember how to use a Smartphone. You pull out your phone and start texting away.

TG: okay im only going to say this once and once only  
TG: i didnt mean what i said  
TG: honestly you just woke up and you didnt know what was happening and my asshole self had to make everything worst  
TG: sometimes i just want to make everything my personal issue and i swear john i shouldnt have expected you to wake up like a disney character and be happy and singing and shit  
TG: how the fuck am i suppose to say this  
TG: i just dont want you to change how you feel about  
TG: todays economy  
TG: omg why that i dont give a fuck about america  
TG: shit  


You hit yourself mentally. You're too much of a chicken to look to the right and observe John's reaction to this whole confession, so you go on.

TG: forget what happened up there  
TG: but dont forget about the past 17 years of your life again  
TG: haha  
TG: sorry  
TG: too soon?  


You are so tempted to type out siiiigh but you are trying to be serious here. John hasn't replied at all and you aren't so sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing.

TG: john im sorry okay  
TG: im just so sure that once you dont know who i am your common sense will finally kick in and rely the message its always wanted to tell you: dave strider is a fucking sorry mess of a friend and you should just leave him alone in the dust  
TG: these feelings are so real  
TG: i really think that you were just pulling me along for the ride because weve known each other since we were in grade school its that sense of heroic obligation of yours to take those you pity and keep by their side until they're well enough to pick themselves up  
TG: im so sure that once you dont see me as an obligation anymore you dont want to deal with me  
TG: the only connection ive had with you was one of memory  
TG: we dont share the same hobbies  
TG: we dont have the same taste  
TG: we only share two mutual friends  
TG: im just 'the old friend' but if you cant remember the old  
TG: im fucking nothing to you  
TG: thats it  
TG: thats what im afraid of  
TG: thats all i wanted to say  
TG: im sorry im a jerk i gave you the reasons why im a jerk  
TG: ...

You feel a tap on your shoulder. You turn in fear, in anticipation, in regret, in relief, in hope. What are you going to see when you turn around?

"Um, hey Dave. My phone's been vibrating for like a while now and um," John shifts awkwardly next to you. You gulp. "Do you know the number password on my phone by any chance?" 

"No, I don't," you reply in a surprisingly pleasant tone.

"Oh, okay then. I guess I'll just put my phone in my bag then," John states.

"Alright," you reply dumbly.

You forgot that he forgot his password.


	3. John: Get Used to the Feeling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John feels like a stranger, but it's okay. He'll get used to the feeling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for waiting.

You wake up to a loud, obnoxious ring. You pull yourself up from your bed and look for the source of the noise. You shift through the material on the table, and see the brightness from your phone. You grab it, and realize that someone is calling you. The best part about your phone is that you don’t need to know the password to answer calls. “W-who’s this?” You ask.

“Again? Jesus John, what did I tell you? I’m your idol who taught you the art of kung-fu at a tender age,” the familiar voice says. Oh, it’s Dave.

“Oh, sorry,” you say while looking at your phone’s screen which clearly displayed his name and picture. “I should have checked who was calling,” you reply.

“God, stop apologizing. Go back to being an asshole please,” Dave says in aggravation.

“Shit, I’m _sorry_ for being all sunshine and roses. Excuse me for being polite to you despite my deep desire to hang up and go back to sleep. So, I _fucking_ beg for your forgiveness,” you say with an eye roll. Frankly, you don’t care if no one is there to see you make a bitter expression. You’re doing it anyway.

“I’m glad that you seem to be reverting back to your ol’ self,” Dave replies cheerfully. “But let’s get down to business here.”

“Dave, I’m not so sure I want to do business with you. At all,” you deadpan.

“Just look out your window, bro.”

You decide to amuse him and haul yourself out of your bed.

You didn't have a good look at your room when you came home yesterday. You recall that after your dad had pointed you towards the general direction of your room, you immediately found it, and fell asleep on your bed instantly. You figure that Dave wouldn't mind waiting for just a few minutes while you evaluate the person you used to be.

The room has a lot of personal touches. A myriad of posters hung around the walls of the room. A large compilation of games were organized in a drawer nearby. You can clearly see all of the comics and manga littered all over the room, and for a brief moment you feel sick. You didn't recognize anything in here! What a shame, because you should at least have some sense of familiarity for a place you've probably spent a good chunk of your life in. This is just great! 

Dave’s still on the phone and he’s beginning to get impatient with you. “Are you going to take forever, Goldilocks? Just pick up the damn porridge and look out the window,” he says.

“Ha, you're so funny,” you say blankly. You walk from your bed towards one of the windows. You don’t see anything at first. You press your hand against the cool glass and squint. You threw your glasses somewhere on your bed, and you don’t particularly want to go hunting for it right now. You breathe against the glass, and the window fogs slightly. Finally, you spot Dave standing a few feet from your house.

“Hold on, I’m heading down,” you say while hanging up the phone. You rush down the stairs as quietly as you can manage. You aren't too sure what your father's sleep patterns are just yet, and you really don't want to bother him. You can hear Dave's approaching steps right outside, and you open the door to greet him.

Dave freezes at the bottom of the porch's steps and fixes his eyes on you. Then, he gives you a friendly nod and walks right up towards the door. Seeing his face, you are reminded that it's still pretty awkward to be around him. You notice that he stares at you a lot, and you're certain that he's looking for a sign that somehow you remember your shared history. He’s tapping along his leg nervously and you begin to mimic his uneasiness. "Hi..." you mumble under your breath as you close the door behind you and rush to meet him on the porch.

He replies, “Hey, you feeling better, dude?"

“I feel like I’m living in a stranger’s home, but other than that, I’m totally fine.”

The blond coughs and you forgot that he too was affected by your situation. Even if you think you're suffering, you're not the person who probably lost a good friend. You don't want to say anything else.

"The feeling will probably wear off in a few weeks, John," he says earnestly. "Probably like having the flu; you gotta have a few more days chilling in bed and playing video games to fully recover from all the bullshit your body has been through," he continues with a shrug.

You let out a half-hearted laugh and say," Thanks for the advice, but I don't think video games will give me 17 years of my life back."

Dave doesn't respond and simply looks away. He needs a moment, and you decide that you need one too. He’s staring at something in the distance, and you guess that it's probably one of those crows that hang around your house. You try not to stare at him too much, but for some dumb reason your eyes seemed glued to him. You feel that sickness in your stomach once again, and try not to let it show on your face.

You try to think of other things, like the red jacket that Dave is currently attired in. You note that Dave is dressed like he's ready to visit a grandparent, not to ~~check out a friend~~ **check up on a friend**. Check up on a friend! Jeez, what's wrong with your thought process? Anyway, you find yourself evaluating your wardrobe and become immediately appalled. You seem to be wearing the exact same clothes that you had when you were admitted in the hospital.

You also notice that it's crazy cold outside. You wonder how you didn't notice the autumn leaves flowing away in the background earlier. You find yourself distracted by the cool breeze, and the soft sound of the trees bristling.

You then realize that Dave was probably watching you. You turn to him, armed and ready to deny any more teasing that the other teen was ready to throw at you. However, Dave too was distracted by the soft lull of autumn.

You watch him closely and slowly exhale. A whirl of leaves twirl together in the wind, then suddenly is frisked off by a quick gust. You suddenly feel an uncomfortable glance geared towards you.

Before you could say anything, Dave yawns and stomps up the porch." Let's head inside before you get hospitalized twice,” he jokes. His nervous state seemed to have vanished in a snap. You eye him quizzically, but allow the strange behavior. This must be his way of coping with the situation, you realize.

"Um, yeah… yeah," you say.

Strangely you feel a tad bit self-conscious around your friend. He's still very silent, and you wonder if this calm, collected person is the same one you saw crying just yesterday. You see Dave shivering in the autumn breeze and figure that the both of you had been outside for long enough. “Make yourself at home," you call to him as you open the door.

“Are you kidding? I practically live here," he replies smugly.

Exasperatedly you moan, "I'm going to take a shower. Do whatever."

"Cool that gives me just enough time to have some breakfast."

He walks away from the door and towards another room in the house. You swear you could hear Dave cheerfully humming some sort of tune. Honestly, you have no idea what exactly is Dave's agenda. Yesterday, he was getting mad at you, and today, well, he's a totally different person. His personality seems calmer, less volatile, and you can't understand why that feels so wrong. It's as if you're a mere child who's done something wrong, and he's trying to play the responsible adult who fixes everything.

You stare at an empty corner and sigh. You climb up the stairs with heavy thoughts, and slightly frown.

The room you reside in is foreign to you in every way. You ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach as you shift through your room in search of a towel. Maybe you should put away all of this stuff later. Simply by looking at all of your possessions, you feel like the "old" John would just come back any time, and reclaim his life. You shouldn't separate your life events into two people, but that's what amnesia feels like. You feel like you're just borrowing this body for a brief moment and the reality is, people are expecting him to come back.

"I thought you were just going to take a shower," Dave calls as he pushes your door wide open. Your humble guest is carrying two bowls in his hands. He had a box of cereal and a carton of milk tucked under his arms. The sight is pretty ridiculous with his incredibly solemn face. He barges in, sets his materials down, and pulls out your wheel chair. He throws himself down on the chair, and places his feet on your table.

It feels like he's trying a little bit too hard to seem casual, but you welcome his presence. Your thoughts were getting pretty heavy back there, and you probably shouldn't dwell on your forgotten past too much. "The doctor said it was only temporary, right? But what will you do if the “old” John doesn’t come back?" you ask.

Dave doesn't look like he's paying attention to you. He's getting himself situated onto the chair, and you’re eyes drift towards the junk he brought in. That cereal actually looks really appealing to you. Maybe it's your favorite and you just don't realize it. You then find that you are absolutely starving. You grab one of the bowls Dave brought in and get yourself something to eat.

"I gotcha a spoon too," Dave points to the box of cereal. “They’re buried somewhere in there, you just have to stick your hand in it."

"You are so charming," you say sarcastically. You reach in and find two spoons. Dave does realize that he could have easily stacked the two bowls on top of each other, then place the two spoons in the bowls? You don't question his antics and hand him the box and a spoon with an amused expression.

"And what were you asking earlier, John? I wasn't listening," he says as he begins pouring the milk into his bowl.

"Ew, what are you doing?!" You gasp in horror. Okay, everything felt out of place since you’ve returned from the hospital, but this is where you draw the god damn line. You know that deep in your heart that people who poor the milk before the cereal should be exiled. "That's fucking disgusting!"

He smiles. He really smiles. It's not the sarcastic smirk from yesterday, nor was it the self-amused grin. And you find your mood feeling lighter. "I thought I was able to get away with it this time," he says as he covers his mouth. You assume it's to hide his fantastic expression, and you try to not feel too disappointed. "You're brain works in the weirdest ways, dude. You can't remember my face or name, but you remember your little pet peeve regarding cereal. Fucking amazing," he says with a muffled laugh at the end.

You're embarrassed, but you laugh too. It doesn't sound like he's condescending what you seem to recall; in fact, it seems like he's enjoying the quirks of your memory. "I think I'm starting to see why we're best friends," you say as you take a seat on your bed. You motion Dave to bring the milk to you. He's still grinning, and you wish that you had your glasses on so you can see the finer details in his expression. However, you're still very much hungry. You already have the cereal in your bowl, so now you pour the milk in (like a decent human being.)

For once, there's a comfortable silence between the two of you. Somehow, you can feel an apologetic vibe from your friend. He's probably saying sorry for yesterday. You hope that he can sense that you forgive him. It certainly feels like he can.

"Oh yeah, were you asking about a doctor or something?" Dave asks you when you both finished your breakfast.

"Naw. I guess it doesn't really matter."


	4. Dave: Figure This Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very unsure about my characterization of Dave, so if people can tell me how I'm doing with character (if I'm writing him right or wrong) that would be awesome.

It wasn't the smartest idea to suddenly show up on the front steps to John’s house at six in the morning. You just didn't sleep at all last night; your brain just kept coming up with scenario after scenario pertaining to John's current memory lapsed state. Your initial panic at the hospital was very brief, and frankly you didn’t have enough time to freak out. John’s dad wasn't worried when he saw John’s condition at the hospital, so you tried to show him that you weren't worried about John too. However, once you arrived back home, you flipped the fuck out (as you intended to do so.)

Your tendency to magnify small problems to puzzling conundrums will always be a major flaw in your character, but god you can't stop your anxiety. You honestly felt like you fucked up big time: thinking that everything John said was just him pranking you, accusing him of bullshitting you, yelling at him when he obviously needed rest, and seemingly ignoring him by sticking your face into your phone throughout the car ride. If only John had read that message you sent him. He would know how sorry you were. Then again, writing your emotions through text would have been the coward's way out.

So basically, you spent last night thinking about the many ways John can break up with you. He probably doesn’t want to look at your face anymore!

By the time the sun was up, you were done with all your morning rituals, and was heading right out the door. You remembered to leave a note for Bro and Dirk, just in case they didn't hear you leave.

 

Now here you are washing dishes in the Egbert residence. You came over to calm your worried nerves, and washing these dishes really helped you get your shit together. John is somewhere taking a shower, and you have enough time to relax and think about what your next move would be. Obviously, you weren't thinking when you showed up, and you aren't sure if you should just leave, or hang out with John more.

"Hi, Dave," a fatherly voice calls behind you. You wonder how a voice can sound so fatherly. "I expected you to drop over, but not this early in the day," Mr. Egbert says. You can hear John's dad shift through the drawers, and take out the coffee beans and bread. You're extremely sure that a long time ago, Dad Egbert just decided to walk out of a 1920's magazine and have a life in the 21st century. He starts up the coffee maker, and takes a seat at the kitchen table.

You finish your task, and decide to take the seat adjacent to the fatherly figure. Of course, you see that the old man has already started on a Sudoku puzzle in the comic area.

"Do you want to talk about what happened yesterday, Dave?" his eyes are still focused on the puzzle, but you can hear the concern in his voice.

"I don't know Mr. Dadbert. Do you?" you counter half-heartedly. He chuckles briefly and goes quiet. You can see the shift in his expression, and for the first time since meeting Mr. Egbert, you see grief in his eyes.

"I saw John earlier in his room, just looking at the posters on his wall," Mr. Egbert whispers, suddenly changing the topic. It isn't like him to be so soft-spoken. Usually, his voice is like his presence, booming with vigor and health. He was almost as loud as John was, and it wasn't hard to see the family resemblance. But then, you come to realize how Mr. Egbert's shoulders seem to slump, and how he's only written two numbers down. And usually, there's a small jar of sugar by the table, but today, John's dad is probably taking the coffee black.

"Oh, I guess he's done taking a shower?" you comment to just break the silence.

"Yeah, I assume so," Mr. Egbert says. “Maybe you can help him out," Mr. Egbert continues. "Tell him the history behind some of the materials in his room." His eyes falls to the floor. Suddenly, Mr. Egbert gets up, and pours himself a cup of coffee. "I think that'll help my son jog his memory." He pauses for a moment, turns around and looks you in the eye. (It’s creepy how he can make eye contact through your shades.)

"There's a possibility he won't remember anything about us, Dave. So we have to help him, even if he looks at us as if we were strangers." He looks outside the window by the sink and sighs. "Be there for him, okay? He needs it."

You nod slowly. Mr. Egbert seems like he's trying to motivate himself, more than he is trying to motivate you. There's a sudden realization that you're a dang idiot, and Mr. Egbert has it worse than you. And Mr. Egbert is telling you that John, has it worse than the both of you combined. "Oh man, I'm an idiot."

"A true idiot would confess he was a genius," Mr. Egbert says before he takes a sip of his coffee.

“Are you okay, sir?” you ask.

John’s dad remained silent. Then, he finally says, “I think I’m going to be fine. John’s still my son, and even if he forgets, I’ll remember.” He turns to you, “So Dave, you should help him figure out who you are.”

"Um, thanks Mr. Dadbert, I mean Egbert," you express with the most solemn voice you can manage. "And, I promise I won't let you down.“ The fatherly figure nods his head in content, and motions you to head back up stairs.

You immediately comply, and simply walk away.

Like what John's dad had said, John had finished his shower and was blankly staring at the four corners of his room. He's hair was still damp, and it seems like he found his glasses. Gotta admit, the glasses sort of suck. It's hard to make out the color of John's eyes through the thick layers of those lens. You shake your head.

"Your dad and I just had an immense heart-to-heart John. Kinda wish you were there to see it," you announce as you once again barge into his room. The door was wide open to begin with, but you slam your arm against the door to make a point.

"That's good," he drones absentmindedly. "Did he mention where I got these posters by the way? I asked him earlier, and he said he'd ask you about it."

"Yeah, he might have mentioned that," you reply. Most of the posters were of old movies, and the rest were from recent ones, and anime. You notice that he was staring intensely at one of the many prints hanging on his wall. You follow his eyes, and realize that he's staring at the first movie poster you gave him. You try to stop your heart from soaring.

"The Girl who Leapt Through Time?" you ask, trying to hide your obvious smirk. Dear god, you probably watched this movie a thousand times in middle school. You forced John to watch it after you wouldn't shut up about it. And when you showed it to him, he wouldn't shut up about it too. Yeah, the movie is anime, but it's fucking art. Fuck the critics.

"Yeah... I think, I remember the plot!" he announces with a bewildered tone.

Your eyes widen behind your shades, and you hold your breath. "Really?" you ask as calmly as you possibly can. You lean against the wall to emphasize your "chillness" and how you are totally not "freaking out." This is good. This is better than good! Holy shit, this is great. If John is capable of recognizing the entirety of a movie plot that would mean that he wasn't far off from remembering everything. You know that Mr. Egbert told you that there was only a very slim chance John would recall anything before his accident, but you're hopeful.

In addition, you are enthralled by the fact that John had recalled a movie _you_ had recommended to him. You managed to influence him as much as he influenced you. Even if he didn't remember his own name yesterday, he remembers the plot to an hour movie you forced him to watch in middle school. If that's not true love, you don't know what is.

Of course, the universe had ultimately failed to create the greatest coincidence in the world by having John thoroughly remember the plot of Fifty First Dates, but hell, you're not complaining.

For some reason, John doesn't seem as happy as you do. You can't see how an amnesiac would be bitter over remembering something. "Hey, is something the matter? You're staring at Makoto pretty intensely, and I'm sure that she's not into you like that, bro." He's squinting at the movie poster despite having his glasses on. Slightly concerned, you asked," You wanna drop a movie review on me, because if you didn't notice, I was kind of waiting for it." You try to avoid sounding as nervous as you feel.

Your friend brings both hands to his temples and sighs. "Yeah," John starts. "Just hold up a moment." Then, he frowns. He opens his mouth to speak, then he just bites down on his lip. "I know it! I'm just having a hard time putting it into words," John explains. John appears to be in deep thought. You watch as he begins to fidget with his fingers (something he does when he's trying to remember the chords to a piano piece before a recital). You leave your preferred leaning spot against the wall and hover behind the frustrated teen. John looks like he's real fucking upset about something, and before you can open your mouth to ask what's wrong, he stomps towards the poster. John reaches for the top of the poster and gently takes it down.

"Never mind," he sighs. "I thought I had something, but the moment I tried to remember it, my head just went completely blank." John glances at the poster with a defeated look and does the unspeakable. John _folds_ the paper quickly, and places it on the table beside him. You watch in horror as John continues this outrageous behavior.

"What are you doing? Don't take any of your shit down!" you scold angrily. "And definitely don't fold any of them," you groan as you rush towards the folded sheets. He's pretty quick about taking them down. John's working on the fifth one by the time you manage to approach him and take a hold of the hand reaching to pull the tape from the top of the Pacific Rim poster.

He continues to say nothing, and a painfully blank expression adorns his face. He looks at you with such emotionless eyes, and a horrible thought crosses your mind. If John was to stay like this, would you even bother to stay with him anymore? Can you really keep your promise to Mr. Egbert?

Of course, John’s his son, and no matter what happens, Mr. Egbert would accept John. But, he's not the same fucking person, and you're a fool for thinking such. Would you be able to stay with him, despite the major shift in his personality? He obviously doesn't see the sentiment behind his possessions. You hate to think of John as two people, but you find yourself doing so already. There's the "old" John and the "new" John, and you're heart breaks every time you look at him and he looks back with a horribly indifferent expression. John then puffs out a heavy sigh, and retracts his reaching arm.

"Everything is giving me a headache," he explains. He simply groans, and sits down on his bed. “The posters, the clothes, the CDs, the books, everything in this room is making me feel like shit.”

You stand there with the four movie posters in your hand. You want to avoid looking at John for just a while, because you're certain if you do, that sensation of helplessness you had while you were at the hospital will return. You’re frustrated with yourself. He was uncomfortable, and you scolded him. You rattle your head and think. Think Dave, think! Do something useful. You take a seat next to John. Out of habit, you don't give the guy space, so your shoulder and sides are completely against his. John doesn't seem to mind.

You take this moment to consider the inevitable fact that has been presented to you: John is not going to remember you at all. All this time, you've been approaching him as if he's going to magically recover from his amnesia, and you'll both go back to your lives. You've skittered around the topic of his amnesia like a plague; whenever he would try to joke about it, you awkwardly changed the topic to something else. Like the unbelievable fool you were, you were expecting everything to be okay without trying to fix anything. Even more foolish, you were expecting that John needed to be fixed!

But John doesn't need to be fixed, he just needs you to talk to him. John wants you to remember for him, because he couldn’t do it himself.

"It's okay. Anime makes me feel emotional too," you joke as you hand the folded paper into his fidgeting fingers. He sends you a small smile, and accepts the token of comfort.

"I'm so fucking impossible. I remember what anime is," he says with a mix of annoyance and amusement in his voice.

"You're brain seems like it has your top priorities sorted out," you tell him. He's still fidgeting with the edges of the paper, so you take the initiative and unfold a portion of the paper. "Your name? Your brain doesn't care. Childhood? Not important. Your allergies? You don't need to remember that shit. But the dictionary definition of the word anime, and whether you like cereal or milk in the bowl first? Now that's what you're brain considers the powerhouse of your personality. The main frame has backups of the backups pertaining to anime and cereal. If your brain was a computer, it wouldn't even have an operating system or anything. It would just be a motherboard with cereal and anime on top of it. If your brain was a CEO of a company--"

John cuts you off there by placing a hand on your shoulder. "Dave, I'm going to stop you there," he says with a grin. "I think I get the point dude."

"Yeah, I guess I lost where that metaphor was heading at the motherboard thing." You want to help John the best way you can, but you don't know how yet. However, you think you know where to start. "I could tell you about the movie," you offer as he stares at the picture of the leaping girl. "And not just the movie," you add. “You use to tell me everything, so if you want, I can like tell you what the old you used to think about them." You shrug without meaning to. At this point, shrugging seemed to lessen the load on things.

"What I used to think?" John says slowly. He flails one hand in the air and says,"I don't know. I guess I'm curious about how I used to be like, and what kind of person I was..." He says with a frown. God, you hated the foreign expression on his face. You're used to John being annoyed, or angry even, but he was never really sad about anything. John was the type of person to look at the positive aspects of life. He would never really dwell on depressing matters. You're not sure if John simply blocked out everything that was negative out of his life, or he held it in. Whatever method he used to suppress his emotions, he certainly doesn't remember it now.

John's earnest emotions make you uncomfortable, and you realize that this was the first time you've ever seen him depressed. John continues speaking," I just, don't want to think about the guy I used to be!" He looks at you with an expression that reads 'please don't think I'm crazy'. "Like, I don't want to think about my past at all, and I don't know why!"

"S'cool," you chant awkwardly as you pat his back. You don't know what else to say, so you continue to repeat yourself. “S’cool. It’s all cool, John. It’s totally cool.”

“I’m sad," John decides to announce. He then leans against your shoulders. “It doesn't always happen, but when I look at some of the stuff around my room, I can feel the gears churning in my brain telling me, 'This is important to you John! Remember it!' And sometimes I feel the memories trying to fit back into my head, but there's always something shoving them out!" He inhales. John clutches onto your jacket, and you can feel his shoulder digging into the side of your body. "It gives me a major headache, and I hate that I feel like I'm almost reconnecting to my old self. I hate him."

Somewhere along the line, the two of you manage to drop all of the posters on the floor. Without realizing, both of your hands gravitated towards John. You pull him in for a hug. It's only nine in the morning, and John Egbert is falling apart.

"I don't know what to do John," you confess. There's a 17 year old teenager crying on your shoulder and you don't know how to deal with it. At this point, his face is buried in your jacket, and you can feel his grip on your arm tightening. Impulsively, you run your hand through his hair. "You're going to figure this all out. We're going to figure this all out."


	5. John: Lighten Your Mood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you for waiting. I'm sorry it takes too long between updates. (I just really hate proofreading haaa.)

Your face is currently buried is Dave's jacket, and you are exhausted however, your head feels so much better than how it did just minutes ago. You still feel a bit light-headed, but you guess it's only because you have been crying for quite a while. Dave is letting you rest your head on his shoulder. You look up to his face, and he is only expressing concern and worry.

"I think I'm starting to feel better," you say to assure him you were fine. "I..." you pause. Your fingers were tapping lightly on the edge of your bed. You recognize these strange patterns as chords for the piano, and you furry your eyebrows together. It’s strange what your body remembers, and what your mind forgets. Dave is watching your fingers fidget and move, and you shake your hands and stop them from moving.

You suddenly are very conscious of your closeness to Dave. He's probably used to this sort of intimacy, since you're best friends and all, but you find yourself growing more embarrassed. You should have realized before, but you really, really find him attractive.

Was this going to be a problem?

"Yo. John," he says while messing up your hair again. Dave has a habit of being so touchy, and he is totally not helping with your situation. "You were saying something, but you've stopped. And I don't know about you, but you're in the middle of an emotional breakdown, and I'm like super worried. So, yeah. Say something," he says with a very concerned expression.

It's going to be a problem.

You cough, and clear your throat. You then slightly move to the side away from Dave. He instantly understands your discomfort, and holds up both of his hands. "Sorry," you both mumble at the same time. And once again, the two of you share an uncomfortable silence.

You clasp your hands tightly together and attempt to stop yourself from fidgeting too much. "I don't think I'm ready to try to remember anything. Like, if I’m like this on day one, who knows what emotional mayhem will happen if I try and keep up with everything,” you say dejectedly. Your tone of voice seems small, and defeated. Dave appears calm, but you can see him bite his lower lip in a nervous anticipation. You wait for him to give you a reply, but he doesn't. "I really appreciate your help, Dave, but I'm just too frustrated to try and piece together who the fuck I am," you say as you throw your hands in the air. “Just being in my room is irritating,” you added.

"As I said earlier, it's all cool," Dave responds. "And I'm here to figure everything out with you, John. One step at a time." Dave reaches for the discard prints on the floor and gently hands them back to you. "God, don't fold any of these things. Some of the older ones are pretty pricey now-a-days," he warns you.

"Oh sorry, I wasn't thinking much when I was folding them up. Everything was just pretty overwhelming," you say casually while setting it aside. Dave rises from his seat on the bed and reaches a hand to pull you up. You reach up, and let Dave help you up.

"It’s fine, John," Dave mumbles. His hands are smoothing out the locks of your hair, and you can feel your breath hitching. "Oh. Oh shit, I forgot that you kind of hate that now," the other teen says apologetically. His hands immediately swing to his side, and he shuffles awkwardly.

"No! It's fine," you say hastily. "I'm just surprised when you do that," you huff. Dave was probably just familiar to this sort of closeness with his best bud, and you're just too darn uncomfortable to be around him. You hate to think that Dave was losing his best friend, but you were just so distracted by him. How did you develop a crush on him in such a sort time span?

"So, I should warn you next time?" Dave asks. He sounds awfully hurt, and you try not to make a cringing face as you nod.

"Yeah. But it's just for a while," you say reassuringly. "At least warn me until I tell you I'm okay with your whole touchy-feely-hand thing you got going on."

"You could have phrased that better," Dave says with a grin. "I mean, seriously, John. You didn't even try to walk out of that one." He gives you a nod, and holds out a fist. "But I can respect that, bro. I would be frightened as hell if strangers started getting to comfy with me," he says thoughtfully.

You assume that the fist Dave is holding up is for a fist bump, and you can't believe you remember what a fist bump is. However, you don't know how the brain creates memory or whatever, so you shouldn't really question a science that you can't understand. Bluh. "There's nothing wrong with the phrase 'touchy-feely'," you defend.

"John, I can't keep looking at your face. You look like you've marathoned twelve episodes of a tragic drama," Dave comments as he casually approaches you and wipes your face with his sleeve.

Even though the two of you are exactly the same height, Dave's presence felt like it towered above you. You can feel your face blushing and you call out," Dave! We just talked about this like ten seconds ago," you added quickly as you shuffle backwards.

"Shit, sorry."

"I, ugh. Sorry," he apologizes again. "I didn't think again," he groans. You nod silently, unsure of what to do next. "You still have that killer headache going on, right?" Dave asks as he begins to walk out of the room. He rubs his eyes under his shades, and you assume he's growing tired of babying you. Then, Dave turns to you and commands," Hey, follow me."

“Wait, why?" You ask as you follow Dave outside the room.

“Hold on, I just realized something important," he mutters under his breath. You give him a puzzled expression, but he continues to mumble to himself. He pulls out his phone, and dials a number. You want to look over his shoulder, but his slouch is so terrible. (Was Dave standing straighter earlier?) You follow him through the hallway and down the stairs. You see your dad through the kitchen's doorway and give him a friendly wave. Since Dave seems to be preoccupied, you decide that you should at least greet your own father good morning.

Your dad portrayed a very calm and collected personality, and you are instantly comfortable with him. There is a very soothing aura surrounding your father's presence, and perhaps your brain is just recollecting the family bond you share with him. If anything, you're pretty comfy around your dad, despite having very brief and somewhat dull conversations with him.

"Good morning, um Dad," you announce. You then add apologetically, "Sorry I didn't say hi earlier, I was..."

"Distracted?" your father responds. He seems to be invested in a very complex Sudoku puzzle. (Jeez, you remember a lot of useless material don't you. You would rather remember who your dad was, than what a Sudoku puzzle is.) You glance at the grey paper with interest and point to the top corner of your father's puzzle.

"That's a two... and you should put a four three blocks down from it," you say absentmindedly. "At least, that looks right," you say with a shrug.

"I would have found it eventually," he remarks. Your dad writes in the numbers with a pen, holds the newspaper upright and nods. "Correct, as usual."

You don't say anything after that. You don't know if you're feeling agitated or happy? Your emotions are mixed and smashed together so thoroughly, you just can't determine what you feel and why. Your constant mess of emotions make you exhausted. Frustrated and very annoyed, you decide to take a seat. You pull out the chair while your father puts down the newspaper and keeps an eye on you. "Is there a problem, Son?" your father asks with in a serious tone. You briefly ignore him as you look through the doorway to check if Dave is still on his phone. He is, and you slump into your chair as you realize you have to answer your father's question.

"I feel out of place," you confess out of nowhere. "Like, I don't belong here, or there, or anywhere! I just feel like a ghost or something, possessing this body for a while and the real human John is going to come marching in."

Your dad gives you a nod, and takes his cup of coffee and drinks it until it has been drained. "John," he starts with a sympathetic tone. “I know it might be hard for you to get accustomed to your current condition, and your memory lapsed state of mind, but you have to acknowledge that as long as you are here, this is where you belong." He leans back into his chair and nods. You can't help but think how utterly cheesy and embarrassing this whole conversation is, but lately you've been having a lot of those. It's almost as if you're in some badly written story book or something. Your dad continues," And since you _belong_ here, you're the real John Egbert as far as I'm concerned. I mean, really. If your name is John Egbert, you are legally my son! It's on the birth certificate I signed!" he booms with a boisterous laugh.

You feel a little bit better, but your dad didn't fully convince you. It's great that he doesn't see any difference in you, but you continue to feel wary of your role as John Egbert. You still feel like John-the-copy, but you smile nonetheless. "Thanks, Dad. But, I really don't feel like you're right," you say dispiritedly. He seems to have so much faith in you, like you're going to figure everything out and not feel these dreadful emotions.

He puts a hand on your shoulder. "Son, just because you don't remember us, doesn't mean we forgot about you," he declares. "There are people who love you, John. I think you just need to see that," he says with a sigh. You sniffle a bit, and shake your head.

You end up so lost whenever you try to recall your memories. Earlier with Dave, you thought you were able to remember something, but for some reason, you just couldn't. The memory was there, and you were so ready to grab onto it and finally know something about yourself, but in mere moments, you lost your concentration, and the thought recessed into your mind. You grew frustrated, angry. Initially, you wanted to remember everything! You were determined to remember something before Dave was done finishing up the dishes. Once you were in your room alone, you looked at everything around you. You tried to recall something from the assortment of possessions littered all across your room. However, you examined everything one, by one, and none of them really caught your eye. You tried countless to remember anything. When Dave was talking to you, you stared at his face and tried to bring forth any memory of him you had, but you just couldn't.

Memory is not like a magician's hat where you just pull memory after memory. And, when you finally looked at that poster, then couldn't remember anything, you felt hopeless.

You stare at your dad, and attempt to conjure something about him! Anything. You try once more to remember. But, you assume that you're just displaying a blank expression, judging from the concerned face of your father. "Just give yourself time, John," he says with a mildly worried tone. Suddenly, you hear a soft 'ping' in the distance. You look for the source of the noise, and sense motion behind you. Your father has gotten up, and was holding a PDA in his hand. He nods, walks to one of the cabinets, pulls out a can of peanuts, pats you on the back, and hands you the can of peanuts.

You just give him a very confused expression. "Sorry, John. Work is calling me out again," he says dejectedly. He gives you a brief hug, and suspiciously eyes the can of peanuts. “See you after work, John,” he calls while exiting the kitchen. You hate that the conversation ended so abruptly, but you figure that your dad is planning another pep talk sometime soon.

"Wait," you call out. You glance down at the seemingly arbitrary can of peanuts your father handed to you. "Why did you give me this?" You ask as you hold it out.  However, your father didn't seem to have heard you. Or, had chosen not to hear you. He's already gone from the kitchen, and you think you can hear a distant door shut. You survey the living room area, but there seems to be no sign of Dave anywhere. You have a bad feeling about this can of peanuts, and you decide to shake it.

God damn. Why were you so suspicious of this can of peanuts? Your dad was just probably giving you a snack or something, since it was nearly lunch time. You decide, fuck it, and open the can anyway.

That was your first mistake. You second mistake was opening the can with your face just a few inches away from your face. Your third mistake was trusting your father. You were immediately bombarded with a burst of peanut brittle. It didn't exactly hurt you in any way, but you might have suffered a small heart attack. There is a loud pop as the peanuts come to a halt. Displayed on the side of one of the silly plastic foams that emerged by the devil can, is a small note.

I AM SORRY SON BUT I COULDN'T RESIST. YOU HAVE BECOME WAY TO CLEVER TO TRICK, AND HONESTLY I DON’T WANT TO LOSE YOUR TRUST, BUT I COULDN’T HELP MYSELF. THIS WILL BE THE LAST TIME I TAKE ADVANTAGE OF THE SITUATION. I HOPE THESE ANTICS HAVE GIVEN YOU A LAUGH. THIS IS ALSO A WARNING. YOU ARE ALLERGIC TO PEANUTS. I LOVE YOU JOHN.

You brush away the clutter of peanut brittle littered all over your body. You let out a small chuckle, and shake the empty can a little bit more. "I did not expect that," you mutter. No wonder why he was such in a hurry to leave the kitchen.

"Wow, did Dadbert strike again?" Dave asks as he walks into the kitchen. He puts his phone in his pocket and sits on the chair next to you.

"Again? Does he do this do everyone?" you say as you pick up the plastic stings from the floor. You idly play around with the object for about three seconds before gathering the mess up and throwing it in the trash can. You promptly take your seat besides Dave.

"Yup," Dave says nonchalantly as he leans into the chair. "If your poor old grandmother ever rose up from the dead, your dad would throw a cake to her face without a second thought." Dave places his hand under his chin and appears to be in deep thought. "Pranks, is just how the Egbert family shows their love," Dave says with a sigh.

"Oh," you say, not really knowing how to respond. You can't tell if Dave is being sincere, or sarcastic, so you just take in the info at face value. Didn't Dave assume that you were playing a prank on him when you woke up with amnesia? Yeah, you remember that at least. It's one of the reasons why you were so damn frustrated with him yesterday.

"What if I told you I was just pranking you?" you ask curiously. You aren't sure why you're asking this. You look at him, and Dave looks stunned. Frankly, it looks like he was not expecting the question at all. Dave's face twists into a puzzled expression, and you simply let out a laugh. “I was just curious," you say with a shrug. "Hah, It's not like I'm that good of an actor," you add.

You can literally hear Dave gulp, and he rubs his neck nervously. "Pfft, I would know if you're lying," he replies softly. Dave places his sunglasses on the table, and begins rubbing his eyes.

There's something about you that just loves to fucking mess with people. You just ask the dumbest questions don't you. "Sorry, Dave. That was a stupid question."

He gives you just a small nod, and you look away when he tried to look you in the eye. Casually, Dave adorns the shades back onto his face and says, “I forgot to tell you something." He stands up, and gestures you to once again follow him. You nod, and rise from your seat. You follow Dave out of the kitchen and out of the living room. The two of you are standing at the entrance hall of your house. He hands you a blue pair of boots and pulls a red jacket from the coat rack.

"Are we going somewhere?" You ask him as you sit in the middle of the hall and put on the boots. They fit you perfectly, and it probably won't take a blastoff researcher to realize this. You groggily rise from your seat on the floor and stand next to Dave. "Wait, why are we going somewhere?"

Dave doesn't explain anything and just simply holds the door open. "Mr. Egbert, were going to Rose's house!" he calls out to your dad. He signals you to go outside first and you hesitantly walk onto the porch.

“Rose? Who?” You feel that the name sounds familiar, but again, the memory recesses into your mind before you are able to bring forth any information. Dave follows you outside and shuts the door. You stand outside in deep thought, and almost have a heart attack when you feel Dave's sudden presence beside you.

"C'mon, she doesn't live too far from your house actually," Dave tells you.

"Dude, are you going to answer any of my questions?" you ask. You really hate feeling lost in the dark, and even if Dave is distracted right now, he should at least inform you about where you were going.

Finally, Dave clarifies, "Yesterday, Rose and Jade wanted to see you in the hospital. Unfortunately, you were there for just a day, and both of them had to play for the school's orchestra or something. Jade had some mishap with a flute or something- something about finding out someone used the flute for dope, I don’t know. But yeah, they had to hold off the visit, and I forgot to tell them your dad took you home."

"Rose... and Jade," you repeat slowly. Dave starts to walk ahead of you and you take that as a cue to follow him. Dave walks in big long strides, (you don't know why that seems so funny to you) but you easily catch up to him. "Hey wait," you call once you’re next to your friend. "Jade doesn’t play the flute. She plays the bass guitar."

Suddenly, you and Dave's eyes widen, and the two of you stop in the middle of the street to just gawk at each other.

“Well, it looks like your right on track to memory lane, John,” Dave says with a grin.

 


	6. Dave: Go to Rose's House with John

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who's reading this. Onto the story.

Storm clouds are forming in the sky during your walk and the first thought in your head is “I am not going to show up at Rose’s house soaking wet.” Despite her collected appearance Rose was a huge worry-wart. If John gets sick she is going to have a cow. He’s trailing behind you slowly and observing the world like some alien visitor. You suppose it’s a bit disorientating, but he can take in the sites when you walk him home later. He’s slowing down to a snail’s pace and the impending rainstorm is really stressing you out.

“John is it okay if you let me hold your hand?” you ask. Yeah, you need him to hurry but you are going to respect his boundaries. God knows how many times you’ve crossed the line today.

“Uh sure it’s okay, I guess.”

“Good,” you say as you grab his hand. You look at him and he’s sporting a very confused look. He seems awfully embarrassed about it too, and truth be told you feel guilty about forcing him out of his comfort zone. But damn he’s always been a slow walker and that storm is heading here quickly. He doesn’t know the way to Rose’s house, and you’re not sure if he can keep up with you.

“Okay let’s run.”

“Wait, what?” Too late. The rainstorm starts way before you thought they would. At least your instincts were 50% right. It starts pouring. Immediately you tug his hand and begin running. “Oh crap,” he shouts.

“Sorry, I should have checked the weather on my phone or something,” you shout back. Both of you are running down the street as fast as you can. The winds are absolutely freezing and you have a strong feeling that you’re going to be sick tomorrow. You’re glad that John is physically able to keep up with you. Of course, the only thing that happened to him was his head injury. But you still worry about him.

You see Rose’s street right around the corner. The rain is still pouring down in buckets and you feel exhaustion taking over. John slows down the same time you do. He lets go of your hand and hunches down in the rain. He looks like he’s shaking. You’re horrified. You’re not sure if you overexerted him somehow. You huddle close to him and say, “John I’m putting my hand on your shoulder.”

You do just that and ask him, “Wow um. Are you okay? You’re not having an asthma attack or anything because you told me that you grew out of it when you were twelve but frankly this type of shit could come back anytime.” He’s still hunched over and you continue to talk. “Oh my god I’m a bad caretaker.”

He begins to shake and you are freaking the fuck out. Then, you hear him.

He’s laughing. He’s laughing in the middle of a heavy rainstorm. You’re both completely soaked, freezing, and exhausted.

You go from freaking out and scared to concerned and worried. “Are you okay, John?” Now both hands are on his shoulders. You’re leaning close to him and you can barely hear his laughing over the rain.

“This feels so familiar,” he wails. “It felt so important. It was like… I was so close. I fucking hate this. I had it, Dave. I saw a flash of something, then it’s gone. Fuck me.” He’s laughing harder. He’s crying.

You hold your breath, and decide to remove your jacket. “You could have waited until you were in Rose’s house,” you mumble as you drape the jacket over him.

You pull him up and there’s a bittersweet smile on his face. There was no point in running anymore since the both of you were thoroughly soaked to the bone. You pull him up from his hunched position and wrap your arms around him. You share the jacket together and proceed towards Rose’s house. He’s still crying like crazy, and you try to think about the last time you’ve seen him cry. John Egbert doesn’t cry.

Not when his grandmother passed away. Not when Jade’s dog died. Hell, he didn’t even cry when his father got into a car accident a few years back and was in the hospital for two weeks.

You wonder if he’s been holding this back. You realize that you’re just staring at him without helping, so you think for a few seconds. You need to help somehow. You need to do something. When was the last time he cried?

“Remember when the two of us skipped school to catch a frog?” You say to him softly. He shakes his head.

“Naw. Sorry Dave. I don’t remember important shit like that. I’ll only remember dumb crap like how I hate the way you make cereal, how to solve a Sudoku puzzle, and what instrument Jade plays. I can also have the faint memory of being a big loser.”

“Shut up, you’re not a big loser. You’re my loser,” you say in an attempt to make him grin.

John shrugs. “Still a loser though.”

“Okay enough of this negativity, John. Just listen to my dumb story.”

He gives you the most heart wrenching expression. It was hopeless and lost. It was a ‘why bother’ expression. You hated that look, but you can’t hate him for feeling that way. You need to bring him to Rose and Jade ASAP. You’re so bad at comforting people. You couldn’t even comfort him when he injured himself. All you do was freak out, but you’re really really trying.

“There was this… green frog outside the elementary school playground. I didn’t see it, but you told me about it. You said you saw it during English. I was desperate to go out and catch it during out lunch break but no one was allowed outside because it was raining. I thought it was such a bummer because I really wanted that frog.”

You look at him expectantly. You want him to be invested in this memory. You want to share this with him, but his eyes are downcast and his face is a mess. “C’mon,” you say.

“Huh? What…”

“Ask why,” you say nudging him. He rolls his eyes.

“Why… why did you want that frog?” he supplies drearily.

You’re so close to him right now. You want to run your hand on his face and wipe away the shitty debris feelings had left on his face. You want to remove those bleak sad eyes and the downcast expression. You want to stretch his frown into a smile. You want him to be as happy as he was two days ago, but you know you can’t. You just really want to find a way to cheer him up, but he’s adamant about being hung up on not remembering.

He’s not going to pay much attention to you is he. Still, you continue. “I had a crush on your cousin, Jade. Like a really big one.”

John stares at you, for a few seconds. You have a feeling he’s sending you judgmental glances. Or something; he’s really staring you down.

“You wanted to skip class to catch a dumb green frog because of a crush. On Jade,” he says distantly. He manages to sound even sadder. You want to crush the impulse to frown, but when he sounds so defeated like that… It hurts.

“I don’t have a crush on her anymore if you’re worried about that kind of thing.”

“I’m not,” he says defensively.

“Just for clarification,” you assure. “Don’t worry you’re pretty little head, John. I only have eyes for you.”

“Dave I’m trying to mope and be wistful and shit. Now’s not the time to flirt with me,” he says looking away from you. He fumbles with the jacket he’s holding and you decide to warp your arm around his waist instead of his shoulder. He’s shuddering like crazy.

“I forced you to sneak out of school during our lunch break,” you continue.

“What a bad influence,” he mutters. Okay he’s in a mood again, but at least he’s listening to you now.

“And we left our umbrella and boots in class.”

“Just great,” he replies. “You tried to kill me.”

“You wanted to bring them along but I thought someone would notice the umbrellas.”

John is glaring at you for being so stupid in the past. You roll your eyes and say, “I was a desperate fool in love. You wouldn’t believe the other shit I’ve done to get people to like me back.”

“Really? Because with your charisma I’d expect everyone to rip their shirts open and ask you to take them once they laid eyes on you.”

“Jealously doesn’t suit you, John.”

He’s silent now. You’re staring at the road as you walk together. You turn to John and his eyes are downcast. He’s in deep concentration and you smile sadly at him. Your red jacket is resting on top of his head and the rain is dripping down from the locks of his hair on to his glasses. It looks like it’s fogging up but John is still managing to find his way.

“Anyway, the frog was a quick one,” you say. “The minute we ran up to the thing it bolted away. It was so fast and we were so clumsy and loud. We chased it onto the street but the concrete only made the darn thing so much faster. You were just as fast but I was trailing behind like a loser. You were so eager to help me for some reason. I guess you thought running in the rain was fun, or you just like chasing frogs. Whatever. I was just glad you were around.

“But it was obvious I wasn’t in shape to keep up with you at the time. You used to like hike up mountains with your dad, so I never felt bad about not being able to run that far. I was so tired though. I was so desperate to get someone to like me, so I forced myself to run after you. I tripped and sat in a puddle for like five minutes. I’m not going to tell you I cried, because I didn’t. It was obviously that the rain caressed my face gently like a mother to her newborn child. Not tears.”

“Obviously,” he mumbles.

“I saw you jogging back to me. You were babbling like an idiot. You were crying about the frog bailing and jumping into one of the sewage drainers. And I guess, I started to cry too.”

“How old were we?” John asks skeptically.

“Eleven? I think I was eleven and you were ten.”

“Not like six and seven?”

“Do not apologize for crying. Without this emotion, we are only robots.”

John gives you an amused stare. “If you’re going to quote a book, pick one that’s less obvious.”

“And of course you’re going to remember reading Eat, Pray, Love.”

“I told you. I can only remember random crap that no one would care about,” John says bitterly.

You want to say something about that, but instead you go back to telling your story.

“So there we were. Just two bros in the rain, crying. And let me tell you again, you started it.”

“Sure I did,” he says with one eyebrow raised. “I believe you.”

“I was disappointed about the frog, sure. But I was more pissed at myself for not being good enough. I mean, wow. You didn’t even have to go on this frog hunt with me, but you did. I forced you to do it, yet I couldn’t even chase it as far as you did. I remember asking you why the hell you were crying. There was absolutely no reason for you to care this much about a stupid frog I wanted to catch for Jade.”

“What did I say?” he asks. John is still very much sulking but at least he doesn’t look as troubled as he did earlier.

“You said you wanted me to marry Jade so we can be officially related. Or something like that.”

“Oh my god. That’s so embarrassing,” John groans out. “ _I_ said that?”

“Yeah,” you agree. “I was surprised. Didn’t know you cared that much about little ol me.”

You’re not sure if you’re blushing, but you can see the hint of red on John’s cheeks. You’re not sure if he still cares as much about you, but you want to hope deep down somewhere he doesn’t forget how he feels about you. “We’re best friends. Even if you don’t exactly feel that way right now,” you say to him.

“What did we do after the frog escaped?” He says a little too quickly. You’re impressed that you managed to make him fluster like this. It’s kind of cute.

“Well, we had a minute to catch our breaths under a nearby bus stop. Your house wasn’t that far from that stop. So, we raced all the way there and skipped school. I was holding your hand because I didn’t want to fall behind.”

You really hope that this is the memory that felt “familiar” to John. You would actually be offended if it was a different one. There’s just a small feeling in your gut that this arbitrary memory from years ago meant as much to John as it did to you. “Does that sound familiar?”

He finally looks at you. You reach for the jacket on top of his head and pull it off. You know that he’s the same height as you but he manages to make himself smaller whenever you are close to him. The rain has stopped but he’s still shaking like a freshly washed Chihuahua. You press your hands on his head and smooth out the mess of hair your jacket had created.

“Sorry about touching your hair again,” you say. “Bothers me when you look like a lost puppy who’s been ignored by their mother.” His breath hitches for a few seconds, but you feel him relax as you continue to flatten out the stubborn locks of hair. He really does hate it when you touch him. “See, better now.”

“Thank you, Dave,” he says in a low voice. “For everything you’re trying to do for me.”

“I’d literally do anything for you. No sweat,” you say as casually as you can. It really sucks that you are low-key craving his affection. For once, you want him to respond to your touches instead of just freezing up for a few seconds. He’s not as used to it as he was, but you can’t help feeling self-conscious about the lack of retaliation here.

He used to lean into you, and grab your shoulder or arm or glasses whenever he pleased. You just feel like John doesn’t like you as much as the old John would. You don’t want to make this about you too but it’s really difficult.

You’re just losing him more and more. Even if you’re hanging out with him all day, you sense the tension between you two.

“I hope you can explain why you didn’t tell us John went back home, Dave,” says a voice behind you.

You turn around and see that Rose just is hoping out of Jade’s car. It’s not raining anymore, but the girl is holding a purple umbrella. She’s dressed up in a thick black jacket and you wish you were smart enough to have brought one similar to it. Jade rushes from the driver’s seat to John.

“Oh my gosh! John, I was so worried,” Jade says as she sweeps John from your grip and into hers. You take a step back and allow the cousins to have their moment, even if John did look somewhat shocked. You find yourself clutching the hem of your shirt as you watch John hugging her back. He looks so comfortable with her. He didn’t seem to tense up at all. He didn’t even try to brush her off. Shit son, he didn’t do that with you.

You turn to Rose and say,” Sorry you guys had to drive to the hospital. I forgot to call you and tell you John was sent home.”

“At first I was extremely pissed. One the way back home I was telling Jade how irresponsible you were,” Rose says. She walks over to the house and unlocks the gate, then proceeds to the door. You follow her and shake your head when she diverts her attention back to you.

“Yeah, I know. Don’t remind me how shitty I am,” you mumble.

“I said at first, Dave,” she responds with annoyance in her voice. She evaluates you and her gaze scans you from head-to-toe. “You’re soaked and look absolutely horrible.”

“Well, damn Rose. I know you see me as a suave guy, but not all of us can look like we stepped out of photoshop every day.”

“Not just physically,” she says as she unlocks the door. She gestures to Jade and John that hug time was over and it was time to go inside. Jade seems to be chatting away, and John looks like he’s interested in what she’s saying. At least their re-introduction wasn’t as bad as yours.

Rose turns to you and pulls you down to her eye level. You know that she can look past the shades and into your soul or some shit. She’s spooky sometimes, but the girl means well. You try to look away, but your eyes instantly settle on John. He’s smiling at Jade, like a full blown one. You’ve been trying to make him smile like that since this morning. It sucks to know that you failed.

“Stop sighing,” she warns. “There’s no sulking and moping in the Lalonde house and you know it.”

“Sorry, Rose. I’m just tired,” you say sadly.

“You tend to make your problems bigger than the really are,” she says as she releases the incredible death grip she had on you. Damn girl.

You realize that her head is also turned towards John’s direction.

 “So amnesia?” she asks. “John’s dad told my mom. How bad is it?”

“It’s ‘I lost 17 years of my life,’ kind of bad.”

“Oh,” she replies. “I was hoping for a something less tragic.” There’s a hint of disappointment and pain in her voice. The four of you practically grew up together. Of course, it sucks having a decade of friendship flushed down the drain like that.

“I know you want to give him a hug,” you tease.

“I’m not the one who usually instigates it,” she says.

“Just go. He needs better company. I don’t think I’m his favorite person right now,” you confess.

Rose throws you a knowing look and rolls her eyes. “He seemed to be very comfortable with your hand caressing his hair.”

“No way. He freezes up all the time now.” Rose is going to make a comment but you shrug and gently move Rose away from the door. “I’m going to your room and let the rainwater drip on ever electronic you love.”

“You and John have spare clothes in the laundry room,” she says as she follows you inside. “All of you tend to leave stuff behind after our sleep overs. Even Jade has a few articles of her clothing lying around,” she adds.

“Wow. Do you think we left behind our underwear too or-”

“Just go get changed already, Dave. You look like death and John looks like he’s going to drop right into an eternal sleep.” Again, when you look over your shoulder at Rose she looks like she wants to tell you something. You know that she is possibly really worried about you but for sure she should direct that mother-hen stuff onto John.

“Don’t be worried about John,” you call.

“I’m not,” she says back. There’s a sinking feeling in your gut.


	7. Abandoning the fic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah. Sorry about this. Honestly I haven't liked Johndave since like the beginning of 2015, but I really wanted to finish this fic. However, I just don't feel like updating this anymore. (I still love Homestuck btw, so I think I'll still be writing for the fandom and stuff.) As compensation, I'll post up what I had going for Ch.7. BTW, it's really messy since I have like 3 different versions going on. I guess I'll post all of them up? Anyway, thanks for reading!

**VERSION 1: JOHN: MEET YOUR FRIENDS**

If joy and happiness was personified and was a human teen, that teen would be the girl giving you this mess of a hug. Her arms are nearly crushing you, there’s hair all over your face and a lingering scent of motor oil and herbs fill the air.

If feels like home.

She lightens the grip on you, and you take a small step back to observe her. She’s very tall, but for some reason you feel that her growth spurt isn’t quite over. Surprisingly, she also bares a very close resemblance to you. You never looked at yourself in the mirror, but you often saw your reflection in Dave’s glasses.  Did you stare at him that often? You shake head mentally. The only difference between you and the girl seemed to be height, glasses, eye color and teeth. Other than those features she could have been your fraternal twin.

“Oh my gosh! John, I was so worried!”

You nod dumbly and she pulls you into another hug. _Jade you have to stop worrying about me and worry about the finals for physics,_ you find yourself thinking. So this was Jade?

“You don’t need to tell me anything! I heard from Rose what happened. Are you okay?” she asks after a few seconds of silence.

“I’m…”

You gather your thoughts. You honestly don’t know what to say. You don’t want to lie to her, but you also don’t want to tell her that you just feel horrible.

“Alive and breathing,” you sigh. You add quickly,” but I think I’m doing better than yesterday. Y’know trying to figure out the amnesia stuff.” You don’t really believe you’re doing better. You just don’t want Jade to worry. Jade sends you a small smile, and you know for a fact that she can see past the lie. But then her expression brightens within a nanosecond and you question if you really did see that brief moment of despair. “I’m so happy you’re feeling better John!”

She finally releases you from the hug. “I’m really sorry Rose and I weren’t at the hospital when you woke up,” she says.

“It’s fine. Dave was there to uh, help me out,” you reply. You sense that your voice went into a whisper as you ended the sentence and you hope that Jade doesn’t notice.

She sends you a knowing look and you groan.

Dave just happened to be a rather good-looking friend who was whole heartedly invested in your recovery and stuck with you from the start. You admit that some of the stuff he does really sends your heart soring, but it’s only because he’s the only person you’ve been interacting with. The kindest and friendliest action from Dave makes you feel dizzy and blushing, but it’s all temporary. You just need to readjust to these familiar strangers. You just need to find your bearings, learn your old lifestyle, and not act upon stupid impulses that tell you to kiss your best bro friend. Until then, you’ll have to deal with this silly infatuation.

“I’m glad that there are some things amnesia won’t take away,” Jade says as with a soft smile.

You don’t know what to think about that. Is she implying that somehow the old you felt this way too? That’s… actually a bit depressing.

“Oh John. It’s nothing you need to worry about,” she replies with a shrug.

You cannot believe how obvious you were. Thankfully, Jade’s smart enough not to mess with your already messy feelings about instead explains why she couldn’t go to the hospital yesterday.

It was a very interesting story to say the least. Jade might have exaggerated some parts of the story to cheer you up, but you find yourself not caring. You may not remember who is who in the story but it’s pretty wild. Apparently there’s a huge amount of drama that goes down within a high school orchestra/band class.

“I’m not the type of girl who sits by and let myself look pretty. I was going to call them out, and unfortunately the flute—“

Rose waves at you both and Jade simply waves back. You sense Dave scanning you and Jade and you feel his gaze lingering on you.

You know he’s doing this because he ~~loves you~~ cares about you. He just really cares about his best bro John.

“But wait, what does this have to do with the cat fur you mentioned earlier?” you ask with great interest.

“I’m getting to that!”

* * *

 

**VERSION 2: JOHN: MEET YOUR "FRIENDS"**

If joy and happiness was personified and turned into a human teen, that teen would be this warm girl giving you a hug. You’re fairly certain that this is Jade, and the other girl next to Dave is Rose. She’s surprisingly tall, and bares a very close resemblance to you. You’ve only at yourself in the mirror for a few seconds before taking a shower, but the similarities are very obvious. You inhale deeply as she hugs you tighter and there’s weird fragrant mix of motor oil and herbs in the air.

You’re not sure why, but you can feel yourself relaxing immensely. You’ve been having a lot of issues when it came to your personal space; you even set rules so that Dave wouldn’t upset you too much. However, you couldn’t feel uncomfortable around Jade. Even without any memories tied to her you can feel that you and your cousin were pretty close.

She lets you go briefly, and the worried expression on her face made you feel so much worse about forgetting about her.

“I heard what happened to you John. Are you okay? You don’t need to tell me anything if you don’t want to. Just tell me how you’re holding up.”

You feel so _horrible._ Guilty even. You’ve already seen how devastated Dave was yesterday, and you’re finding it hard to believe that Jade and Rose are not currently losing their shit.

“I’m…”

 You don’t know what to say. You don’t want to lie to her, but you don’t want to dump any of your baggage onto anyone else.

“Alive and breathing,” you sigh.

Jade doesn’t look satisfied with that answer. She looks rather disappointed and you can sense that an unhappy Jade is rather hard to cheer up.

“B-but the doctor says there’s a possibility that this is temporary!”

You try your hardest to smile brightly at her. You really, really try. There has been a bitter grimace on your face since you’ve woken up. You know from Dave that this is not an expression that John Egbert uses.

You’ve seen pictures of yourself back at your house. In every single picture there was a huge grin adorned on your face. It was foreign and bizarre and you couldn’t stare at them for too long.

You attempt to emulate the radiant smile of the former John Egbert. “I’m positive I’m going to get better! (Well, it’s uncertain.) I mean I sometimes feel that stuff is familiar and it’s really encouraging me! (It’s not.) I just might remember everything by next week!”

 Dave told you that they were your friends, but that’s only from their point-of-view.

 You don’t know these people, even if they act like they know you. They’re strangers to you and you know that you’re a stranger to them. They just can’t see it because you have the face and body of their best friend “John.”

You know that you’re not the same person. Even if you feel that way. Even if they feel that way. It’s just not the same.

It might have been better to keep them away from you. You know that Dave brought you here so you can deal with this whole amnesia crap, but it feels like   _this_ all on the down low, let them live their life without having John Egbert’s

_“Alive and breathing.”_

 You don’t want to be biased or anything but you feel yourself warming up to Jade faster than you did with Dave. Maybe it’s because he’s just a little more awkward around you, or

It was so obvious that none of these people deserved to be forgotten about. It probably really sucks for them having to live without a good friend of theirs. You know that really this isn’t your fault, but you can’t help but think that if you had been more careful none of them would go through this agony.

There’s just a weird tension between you and him and honestly it’s a bit exhausting. Jade on the other hand is sincere and up front.

“I just want to let you know that I’m here for you. I’m good with directions and maps in general so if you need any help just go to me first. And you can definitely talk to me about anything and everything, I don’t want you to go through this alone.” You’re not sure why, but you don’t want her to see that pathetic sad side of your situation.

but she just feels like a ray of sunshine and if you somehow disappointed her, you feel that you would never forgive yourself.

* * *

**VERSION 3: JOHN: MEET YOUR "FRIENDS" (THIS IS THE OFFICIAL ONE I WOULD HAVE WENT WITH)**

You really liked Jade. It was surprising to see how well the two of you got along with each other, but it might be because you’ve apparently known her the longest. Unlike Dave, she doesn’t assume you’re playing a prank on her and instead of trying to get info out of you she just tells you why she couldn’t make it to the hospital yesterday. You know for a fact that if Jade and was there, you might not have had those previous breakdowns.

You don’t blame Dave for not handling the amnesia situation properly. He was an ass and you were confused. He lost a best friend and you lost who you were. There was way too much for the both of you to deal with. There’s literally no one to blame for that downright awful beginning.

But wow, it’s only been a few hours and you’ve really gotten to know a little more about him. Granted, you don’t know _that_ much about Dave but you know a lot more than you did yesterday.

And you admit that you’re a little happy that you managed to spend a lot of time with him. You really enjoyed the moments you were close to him, despite being uncomfortable with it earlier. It was so easy to fall into a sense of security around him. Dave seemed to know the exact words to say to get you to open up, and you really appreciate that he sort of knows what he’s doing. You’re just a huge frustrated mess of a person and you’re just beginning to learn that you won’t get your memories automatically. You just need to cross that bridge of acceptance and hopefully you’ll find the road to recovery.

You were so positive that you weren’t going to have a major breakdown after talking to both Jade and Dave. You haven’t talked to Rose yet, but you have a feeling that she’s going to be a positive influence on your psyche. For once brief second, it felt like things were starting to look up.

That was until you walked into Rose’s house. You don’t pay attention to what Jade and Rose is saying in the background. Rose might have mentioned something about the rain, and Jade might have said something about the wet floor. It’s hard to concentrate.  You manage to catch was their footsteps becoming faint but that was it. You blink and suddenly you weren’t standing at the entry way. You just find that you’re body was slowly approaching the living room on its own accord.  

You didn’t see many pictures of you back home. It’s highly possible that the only pictures of you were in photo albums. Even if your Dad was a very proud father, he might have possess some self-awareness for his child. Rose’s mom… Not so much.

On almost every table there’s at least a photo of Rose. One third of those pictures are group photos. Half of those photos have you... smiling along with Rose, Dave and Jade. You don’t know why but it’s so upsetting. It’s horrifying. You suddenly come to the realization that once again you have no idea who the fuck these people are. But they know you.

No. They knew you. The person in these photos is the old John. The old you. Rose Dave and Jade’s best friend. You can help but think about the possibility that you’ll never recover from amnesia. That these happy memories will always be lost to you, but will resonate strongly between the others.

You shouldn’t feel this horrible over a mere photo.

But you do. You feel horrible and messy and guilty over this. You’re supposed to be the same person, but it’s really hard to accept that. You’re looking at a picture that you don’t remember taking, posing in a place you don’t know, while standing in the home of a girl who you actually don’t know anything about.

You shake your head. You can’t keep thinking about it this way. Just like any other illness this isn’t your fault. You inhale deeply. Don’t think about the amnesia. Try to pretend that you’re okay and your friends don’t hate you. Just pretend to be the old John Egbert.

“Hi John. Sorry I didn’t greet you earlier. I thought that it would be overwhelming if you had Jade and I fussing over you at the same time,” Rose says as she makes her way down the stairs.

 She throws you a towel and you catch it instantly.

“You look like death,” she says in a soft voice.


End file.
